


Transitory

by deviantVariation (methequins)



Series: The Gadabout Crowd [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, kings among runaways, the gadabout crowd au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-17 00:56:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methequins/pseuds/deviantVariation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting out made you think everything would change for the better. Turns out that there are some things that you can't run away from, but maybe that doesn't matter so much as long as you're with the one that makes it worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transitory

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the Gadabout Crowd AU I'm working on. I haven't decided exactly where it falls in the timeline of Kings Among Runaways yet but it works as a standalone piece. It's set in New York City and Craig and Kenny are approximately eighteen in this.

The planes fly too low to the ground here and it sets my teeth on edge. You keep trying to talk to me but I’m not sure what to say to you anymore, if there’s anything left to be said, you’ve stolen all my words.

Once upon a time in the distance of last week, you asked what we were doing. What the hell are we doing here Craig you asked and I didn’t have an answer for you. We could still be up in the mountains you said we could get out of here we ran away once we could do it again. We could be anywhere.

This is anywhere I said. We ran to get away and this is where it got us more running won’t do us any good.

Your shoulders hunched and you wouldn’t look me in the eye after that. You wouldn’t say it but I think you knew I was right. We’re stuck but we’re still running, we’re always running you and I. One of these days our legs will give out from the effort and then what will we have left?

We’re on the subway for an hour and a half, it takes that long to get past Queens out to Rockaway. You fall asleep on my shoulder and I would think it was almost sweet if your breath didn’t still stink of booze from last night. Nothing about us is sweet anymore anyways – we’re far too broken for that. I’ve gotten used to the stares we get when we go out because we look like shit always and I’ve given up on trying to care. I’m glad you’re asleep so you can’t see them, I know how they bother you even though you put on a tough face and pretend like they don’t.

I don’t understand why you do that. Make yourself strong for my benefit. Do you realize you aren’t helping anything? You’ve always had the best of intentions but you’re not being honest with yourself. Maybe that’s why we’ve been arguing so much or maybe we both just need something to yell at.

We get off the train and it’s not a far walk to the shore. The sky is grey and the waves are big, crashing on the sand with a rough kind of fury, and I want it to be calm and glassy-topped like the pond always was back home, we didn’t have oceans out west. This won’t freeze over in the winter, we can’t ice skate here. It just goes out and out and somewhere on the opposite side is more land and more people who probably feel just as lost and insignificant as we do right now.

We sit on the boardwalk for a long time and don’t talk. Your hands are shaking as you light your cigarette, offer it over to me to share. I have my own but I take yours anyways. It’s the most intimacy we get out of each other these days.

Why did you take me here you finally ask. You haven’t looked me in the eyes once since we got off the train. You don’t do that so much anymore. Are you scared of me? Are you scared of the version of yourself you might see if you do look?

I don’t know I say. I felt like we needed it.

Neither of us says anything else after that, and pretty soon the cigarette is gone, and not long after I take out another one and light it up, pass it to you.

Your fingers are rough against mine, calloused, but they always kind of have been. I don’t get as gritty as you somehow, I’m not sure how that works because we do all the same things and go all the same places but your hands turn to tree bark and mine just get riddled with spider web cuts and scrapes. You made fun of me for that once and we were both stoned I punched you in the face and you didn’t even feel it.

The wind’s blowing cold and it’s going to be winter soon, but winter won’t be the same this year it’ll probably hardly snow. We’re used to being practically buried in it, but then again, we’re also used to small town life, walking for miles and not seeing a single person. Now we’re stuck in the middle of this damn city where no one knows our names.

But these were the choices we made when we got on that bus months that feel like years ago. We always knew there was no looking back.

Sometimes, though, I wish we could. Sometimes I miss it. I know you do, too. You don’t say it but there are a lot of things I know about you that you never say.

Fate is a funny sort of thing and I still don’t know if I believe in it or not but there has to be some kind of truth in the way we huddle on the subway platform waiting for the train, it’s dark out now and your hand is clenched to mine your knuckles are white. I’ve never felt so old and tired. I’m always tired these days.

I want to go home Craig you say. Craig let’s go home.

We can’t I say. How can we we’re already home, this is home for us now. Subways and boardwalks and nights lost between the skyscrapers you on the roof yelling at the top of your lungs wanting the whole world to hear you. We’re already home. This is home.


End file.
